


Still Here

by twokisses



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Era, Canon Universe, Deleted Scenes, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Prompt Fill, Tumblr Prompt, i'm not entirely sure what that tag is supposed to mean but it seems to fit??, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:55:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22018255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twokisses/pseuds/twokisses
Summary: Scene inserted into Wayward Son Chapter 54: While waiting in the hotel room for Lamb to get them, Simon confronts Baz about Lamb, and their relationship.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 16
Kudos: 191





	Still Here

**Author's Note:**

> for a tumblr anon who requested angsty snowbaz + "i don't want you to go"

They’re waiting for Lamb.

They’re just sitting here, under his roof, surrounded by his people, waiting for him to lead them into a desert—into a fight they know barely anything about—and Simon is spent from anger.

He’s been stewing in it for hours, after all. He’s been soaking in it. Huffing and growling and failing at ignoring Baz, across the room. Running through the lengthy list of reasons why they shouldn’t trust Lamb.

But it’s not really a list, if he’s being honest with himself. It’s just one or two things that he keeps coming back at from different angles. Hoping to find something new that can work him up into a strop again. 

Of course, he runs out. Eventually, the variations are exhausted, and the lines of excuses have all reached the same dead end. All he’s left with is a simple, ugly, simmering anger at the bottom of his skull. And the hazy, terrifying truth buried just underneath it.

He won’t face the second. But he can’t stand the first.

He knows what it’s like to go into a fight like this, with the dregs of anger and unresolved issues clinging to the back of his head. With Baz decidedly not at his side. He remembers that Christmas so clearly. It was after Baz figured out the link between Simon and the Humdrum. They fought, and Baz left Penny’s house to go after the numpties on his own, and Simon left to find the Mage. And it really felt like something was ripping down the middle of the shining new thing that they had. Simon thought he could actually feel the stretch and pull of Baz growing further away from him. 

There were moments after, in between the fear and panic and confusion, that he wondered if they’d ever sew themselves back together again.

Now… well, they’re technically moving in the same direction, to do the same thing.  _ Find the NowNext vampires, save Agatha. _

But the strain feels the same.

Simon isn’t looking at Baz, but he can hear his activity over by the next bed - the soft rustle and slide of his fancy shirts as he folds them, and the muffled thuds as he presses them into his suitcase. Penny and Shepard are on Simon’s bed. They’re not talking, but are sitting a little away from him, as if his anger is a contagious disease they’re avoiding.

Baz zips up his suitcase. The whine of it is too sharp and too high in the heavy quiet. Simon wonders what he’ll do, now that he’s done with that. He won’t go out while they’re waiting for Lamb, and there’s little hope in Simon that he’ll come over to him.

Baz walks straight to the bathroom and shuts the door.

But the lock doesn’t click. Simon hears the sink tap start to run. And after two seconds of deliberation, he gets up and follows, ignoring the weight of Penny and Shepard’s stares on the back of his head.

Baz is bent slightly over the sink when Simon pushes the door open, with his face hidden in his cupped hands, dripping water. He smooths his palms over his eyes and looks up at the sound, but only briefly makes eye contact with Simon in the mirror before looking back down. 

The door clicks shut, like a gunshot from the loaded silence.

“What is it, Snow?” Baz asks.

He looks tired. Drawn, and even more ghostly grey than usual. But still so ridiculously beautiful. Simon looks at the two of them in the mirror, at the contrast they make - purple and gold dress shirt against plain white T-shirt, silk trousers against faded jeans, long and pale against blocky and golden. He used to think they complemented each other. Set each other off. Highlighted the other’s better qualities.

Now he just gets the vague, unsettling feeling that they’re mismatched. 

“Why do you trust him?” he asks. There are hints of dismay, squeezing shamefully through the cracks of his anger. He ignores them. “ _ How _ could you trust him?”

Baz has turned off the tap. He’s standing against the sink with his hands gripping the edge. Simon watches his head drop slightly. “I just—I have a feeling about him.”

Simon inhales long and slow, through his mouth. “You have a  _ feeling _ . About him. And what would that be?”

“I’m not talking to you about this if you’re just going to get angry again.”

“Of  _ course _ I’m going to get angry again!” Simon snaps, then struggles, and lowers his voice. “Are we supposed to follow a vampire into the desert just because you have a  _ feeling _ about him? Baz, he’s—I mean you—” Simon runs his hands through his hair. “You’ve known him for  _ two days _ . And suddenly you trust him more than me?”

“I don’t trust him more than you!” Baz finally turns to face him. He looks frustrated, more than anything. But also angry. And slightly pained. “He just has more information than you do, in this specific case!” he says.

Simon growls: “He could be lying to us! About everything!”

“Well, we don’t know that he is! And we don’t know that he isn’t. Either way, he’s our only lead, Snow. We’ve been over this. We  _ need  _ him.”

“ _ You _ need him,” Simon snaps. 

And Baz stops. Simon didn’t even register movement in him before, but it’s obvious that it was there, now that it’s gone. He’s perfectly still. He’s staring at Simon, and finally something familiar is twisting in his eyes, but it’s too much to bear - it’s guilt, and love, and betrayal, and sadness, and it’s tearing Simon apart.

Baz says, “What is that supposed to mean?” and his voice is so low Simon almost doesn't catch it.

“Baz, don’t fuck around with me.” Simon’s voice cracks, but he shoulders past it. “I heard you through the phone last night. And I saw you in his room. I’m not  _ blind _ .”

“Simon—”

“If you want him, just tell me! Then we can actually, finally stop kidding ourselves!” Simon’s breath is breaking. His heart is breaking. He’s throwing a fist right through the thing that keeps his world together because it’ll be easier to build back from the ground up, if they can, and easier to leave as a clean break if they can’t. “We can just end this,” he says. “At least  _ now _ I’ll know that you—” He stops, the words choking him. 

Baz’s eyes are shining. “That I what, Snow?”

Simon swallows.

He says, “That you have someone better for you.”

It’s the band-aid off the wound. And all the old, poisonous blood that's been festering beneath it.

It hurts more than he thought it could, to have said almost everything that's been dragging at him for over a year, in one sentence. And Simon hates—he  _ hates _ —that Lamb got to be a part of it. That he’s here between them, even when he isn't. Simon hates  _ him _ . (For being more than he is. For being a whole person (almost person) rather than the vague memory of one.)

But maybe, in some sick way, he’s what they needed. A push. A reason to actually  _ look _ at themselves and see the mess they’ve become. Although Simon still can’t blame Baz. He hasn’t done anything to Simon. He’s just been living. The way he should be. 

Simon’s just hoping that he’ll be kind now. That when he breathes a sigh of relief and leaves, he’ll do it without the added salt of sympathy.

“Simon…”

He closes his eyes.

“He’s not better for me.”

Simon blinks. 

Baz looks like he's recovering from a punch to the gut, one that he saw coming but didn't think would actually land. His eyes have never looked so sad. Simon can see the weight he's putting against the sink from his hip. His hands are limp against his thighs.

“Simon," he repeats. Whispers. "Lamb… Lamb can teach me about being a vampire. And he can give us information about where Agatha is, and he’s - what do you want me to say? That he’s attractive? He is.” Simon swallows down the taste of bile, but Baz is still going, “Crowley, he’s handsome and rich and rules over a city of vampires. But I  _ don’t want him _ . Not this way… Not the way I want you."

Simon can see Baz watching his face. But he isn't even sure what it's showing anymore. He thinks that it must be unreadable, not because he's good at hiding his feelings - Penny always reads him like an open book - but because his feelings are so confused that they must be unrecognisable, together. All he knows is that everything in his chest is squeezing together, and pulling down towards his feet. He almost wants to drop to his knees.

"Simon," Baz says, quietly. "I want  _ you _ . I want you all the time, even when I don't think I can have you anymore. And that's… almost always. These days.” He shakes his head, a little. “You're with me a few hours on a good day, and then you're gone again. And I never know if you'll come back… But I've always been here. Simon… I'm still here." His eyes are grey, and pleading. “I just need to know if you want me to be. Or if you want me to go.”

Simon knows that Baz will. He'll go. If Simon asked him to.

"I - I don't - "

He  _ should _ ask him to go. If he was a better person, if he was less selfish, he would. 

But he isn't. And maybe, maybe he still is what Baz wants, despite it.

"I don't want you to go," Simon whispers.

And Baz looks like he’s received another punch, but in a slightly better way, this time. Like he wanted this brand of pain. If it's the pain of loving someone too much, then Simon knows what he's feeling.

"Then I won't," Baz says. Like it's simple.

Maybe, at the end of the day, it is.

Simon’s eyes are hot, and overflowing before he can decide to allow it. His hands unclench from the fists they were locked into. His head drops, so he hears rather than sees Baz moving forward moments before he’s being wrapped up in his arms. Baz presses his face into Simon's hair. 

“It’s okay,” he says, as Simon clings to him and wets his shoulder with his tears. “It’s okay. It’s alright. I have you.”

“I don't want you to go,” Simon murmurs, again, because the truth tastes so much better than the self-sacrificing lie.

Baz kisses his hair. "I'm not going anywhere," he promises. "Not without you."

And then there's a rap on the door before Simon can reply. It's Penny.

"Guys, Lamb is here. We’re going now."

**Author's Note:**

> more of my snowbaz stuff on [tumblr](https://sbazzing.tumblr.com/).


End file.
